


Christmas ain't shit (It's better when it's with you)

by MoraMew



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Hot chocolate and shitty movies, M/M, Making Christmas better with your bestie that you might have a crush on, Soft Pining, Sort Of, no angst i promise, oh and glasses Matsukawa because I'm weak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-21 22:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13153314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoraMew/pseuds/MoraMew
Summary: Oikawa's cute, Christmas sucked this year, and Matsukawa is a weak man.





	Christmas ain't shit (It's better when it's with you)

**Author's Note:**

> i had a subpar christmas so i gifted myself fluffy matsuoi

Matsukawa is made aware of Oikawa’s return home with a slam of the front door and a huff followed by loud footsteps that are sure to earn them a scolding from their neighbor downstairs. His lips quirk into the smallest smile, though, despite the dramatics and Matsukawa tilts his head back over the couch’s arm rest to watch an aggravated Oikawa march into the living room, suitcase in tow. He’s upside down from this point of view but he’s still absolutely gorgeous- even with the bags under his eyes and his hair all messy from his beanie and the way his lips are turned into a scowl.  
  
“Fun Christmas?” Matsukawa asks in a drawl.  
  
Oikawa huffs in response and and Matsukawa sits up to face him properly, runs a hand through his hair and eyes the way frustration flares up more on Oikawa’s face.  
  
“ _Iwaizumi_ brought _Mr. Refreshing_ over for Christmas dinner,” Oikawa mutters, throwing his scarf down onto the armchair and then glaring at it as if it had wronged him in a past life. “And my sister asked when I was going to bring someone home. And dad pulled that passive aggressive bullshit over my degree- _again-_ and I didn’t get any of the pie because everyone ate it before me and- and-”  
  
Oikawa cuts himself off with an aggravated noise and rakes a hand through his hair, crosses his arms over his chest with a particularly petulant pout. Matsukawa considers rolling his eyes but, honestly, his Christmas wasn’t great either and he knows it must have been more frustrating than Oikawa is really letting on by the way he isn’t glossing over it with a flippant comment and some sort of exaggerated smile.  
  
So he hums instead and he eyes his roommate, one of his closest friends. Oikawa’s pout grows under his gaze and Matsukawa raises his brow, pushes up his glasses and nods to himself.  
  
“I’ll make hot chocolate,” he tells Oikawa. “Change into something more comfortable.”  
  
Oikawa perks up a little bit at that and his lips twitch into the smallest smile, his teeth pull at his bottom lip to try to hide it.  
  
“I want whipped cream in it,” Oikawa demands, just a bit whiny but still clearly a little pleased.  
  
“Yeah, yeah. I know,” Matsukawa tells him. “Go before I change my mind.”  
  
Oikawa scrunches his nose up at him and then he hurries out of the room, the small smile on his face matching Matsukawa’s.  
  
Honestly, Matsukawa probably babies him too much when it’s just them.  
  
He’s still not as bad as Iwaizumi, though.  
  
Matsukawa huffs to himself and then walks into the kitchen. It’s a little messy from where he haphazardly pulled together his own Christmas dinner from leftovers from his own family dinner a few days prior but it’s still workable and he heads to the fridge without pause.  
  
He pulls out milk and pours it into a saucepan, flips the burner on and then begins to pull the rest of what he needs down from the cupboards.  
  
God, he really does baby Oikawa these days. Hanamaki would give him so much shit if he knew he was making Oikawa homemade hot chocolate.  
  
Oh, well. He’s making it for himself too.  
  
(At least that’s what he tells himself)  
  
He can hear Oikawa shuffling around the living room by the time he finishes pouring the caramel vodka and the cream into the pan. Matsukawa stirs it all up and then pours the hot chocolate into two mugs, adds a shit of whipped cream to one and leaves the other without. And then- since he’s already spoiling Oikawa- he drizzles caramel over the whipped cream topped mug, adds a dash of cinnamon on top of it as well.  
  
Oikawa better not ever say Matsukawa doesn’t do anything for him.  
  
Matsukawa huffs to himself, smiling, and then walks to the living room with the mugs, careful not to spill anything. They’ve already got a few stains on their carpet and he’s not that eager to add another.  
  
When he comes to a stop in front of the couch, Oikawa absolutely lights up, shines brighter than a Christmas tree. He reaches his hands out for his mug with a pleased little noise and, god, Matsukawa is a weak, weak man.  
  
Oikawa’s too fucking cute for his own good.  
  
Okay, so _maybe_ he has a small thing for his roommate, one of his best friends. Maybe he’s a little soft to the brat, maybe he’s a little weak to how cute he can be sometimes.  
  
Because Oikawa can be _really_ cute sometimes. He can be really cute when he’s not trying and when he’s not posturing and when he’s not trying to meet some impossible inner standard. He can be cute when he’s genuinely pleased and not making a fuss, not courting the spotlight or putting on airs.  
  
Like right now. Like with how he’s got his hands wrapped around his mug and is blowing on it gently, a happy smile on his face that’s making his dimples flash. He’s wearing one of his stupidly dorky X-Files shirts and a pair of pajama pants with little polka dots on it. His socks don’t match and his hair is a little messy and the freckles on his elbow are standing out against pale winter skin. He looks like a mess and he looks both cute and gorgeous at that same time and, god, Matsukawa really is a weak, stupid man to be rooming with Oikawa.  
  
Matsukawa sighs silently to himself, resigned but fond, and joins Oikawa on the couch, puts his feet up in Oikawa’s lap and ignores the way Oikawa scrunches up his nose at him.  
  
“There’s vodka in it,” Matsukawa tells him, taking a sip of the hot chocolate. It’s a little too hot but it’s not that bad, not hot enough to scald his tongue.  
  
Oikawa’s eyes practically twinkle with that and Matsukawa smiles down into his hot chocolate, hides it from Oikawa’s all too seeing sight.  
  
“Mattsun is being so _nice_ ,” Oikawa coos, sounding both pleased and teasing.  
  
“Yeah, well, it’s Christmas,” Matsukawa tells him, almost muttering it. He watches Oikawa take a sip of hot chocolate and snorts when a tiny dollop of whipped cream and caramel sticks to Oikawa’s cheek. “You’ve got some on you.”  
  
Oikawa darts his tongue out in an effort to swipe it off and Matsukawa snorts again, rolls his eyes when Oikawa grins and lets out a quiet giggle.  
  
“You’re such a little kid,” Matsukawa tells him. Oikawa sticks his tongue out again, this time at him, and Matsukawa can’t quite hide his grin before Oikawa sees it. “God, and tell me again how you’ve got so many girls panting after you again?”  
  
“My boyish charm, superior intellect, and dashing good looks?” Oikawa suggests, grin still in place.  
  
God, what an idiot. A beautiful, ridiculous idiot.  
  
Matsukawa huffs out a laugh and eyes the whipped cream still on Oikawa’s face, sets his mug down on the coffee table before shifting his feet off Oikawa’s lap and leaning over to him.  
  
“Come here, you dork,” Matsukawa says, maybe a little too fond.  
  
“I’m not a dork,” Oikawa whines with a little puppy dog pout. He leans toward Matsukawa obediently, though, and stays still so Matsukawa can swipe his face clean. “Why are you so mean? You hang out with Kei-chan too much.”  
  
“You literally just said I was _so_ nice,” Matsukawa reminds him.  
  
Oikawa sticks his tongue out and Matsukawa rolls his eyes and, honestly, he can’t think of a better close to Christmas day.  
  
Well, he _can_ but it’s nothing he’ll get his hopes up for.  
  
Matsukawa reaches a hand up to Oikawa’s face and gently swipes the smear of caramel and whipped cream off soft skin. He might linger a bit too much with touching Oikawa, with looking at dark brown eyes and long, thick lashes and pouty lips.  
  
It’s Christmas, though. He can allow himself that.  
  
Matsukawa takes a breath and then flicks Oikawa on the forehead, moves back so he can grab his hot chocolate and ignores Oikawa’s whine.  
  
“ _Mean_ ,” Oikawa huffs.  
  
“So you don’t want to watch Santa Claus Conquers the Martians?” Matsukawa asks, raising a brow before taking a sip of his drink. “Because we can, you know, watch The Grinch if you don’t want-”  
  
“Noooo,” Oikawa cuts off quickly, looking eager. “You know I’m teasing, Mattsun. You’re _so_ nice. The absolute _best_. A _peach_ , a _wonder_. My _favorite_ bespectacled bestie. My-”  
  
“You need to work on your brown nosing,” Matsukawa tells him, trying to hide his smile. Oikawa pouts and Matsukawa rolls his eyes, stands up to plug his laptop into the tv. “Go make some popcorn, at least.”  
  
Oikawa lets out some sort of ridiculous noise of victory and hops up from the couch, hurries off toward the kitchen. Matsukawa rolls his eyes again and then scrubs at his face with his hands before plugging the laptop up.  
  
He’s probably more fucked over this than he’ll admit.  
  
He pushes it away, though, and sets everything up, pulls the movie up. When Oikawa walks back into the room with a huge bowl of popcorn, Matsukawa lets the movie play and makes his way back to the couch. He flops onto it ungracefully and Oikawa follows after him, surprising Matsukawa by scootching close and leaning against him. Matsukawa isn’t unused to Oikawa cuddling him but it’s still a surprise and a nice one, too.  
  
Matsukawa hums and reaches up to pull a throw around them, allows himself to wrap his arm around Oikawa’s shoulder. Oikawa snuggles against him with a happy sort of hum and Matsukawa might just melt a tiny bit, has to struggle to keep his face impassive as he stares at the grainy footage beginning to play.  
  
“Merry Christmas, Mattsun,” Oikawa murmurs to him.  
  
Matsukawa’s lips twitch into a smile and he takes a deep breath, squeezes Oikawa’s shoulder and relaxes back against the couch.  
  
“Merry Christmas, Oiks.”

**Author's Note:**

> The recipe for the hot chocolate I was thinking of/craving can be found [here](https://www.pastemagazine.com/articles/2014/12/8-adult-hot-chocolate-recipes.html). It's the Salted Caramel Vodka Hot Chocolate on. c:
> 
> Come say hi and hello on [my tumblr](https://moramew.tumblr.com/)~


End file.
